Coaches in the Sky
by CoachesInTheSkyFreeYourMind
Summary: A zombie apocalypse. One man. One charger. One unexpected love.
1. Tough As Nails

I do not own anything to do with l4d.

Coaches in the sky

Chapter one

"C-cold… so cold…" Coach muttered to himself, hugging the one scratchy blanket he had close to his naked body.

Coach was in an abandoned warehouse, and had not seen anyone for hours.

"I need to find someplace that's warmer before I freeze…" Coach groaned to himself, getting up out of the bed of boxes he had made. It was soggy and uncomfortable and smelled like old cat feet. The blanket was wet from the freezing rain pouring down from the broken window above him. He slept under the window to prove to his dead wife, Barbara, he was tougher than her.

Coach walked out of the warehouse, not caring who saw him or his naked ass, slathered with boils and poo.

"Hey! Hey, you!" Coach heard someone holler. Coach spun around, his blanket spinning around his body like a cape. He peered into the darkness, searching for the man who had called to him. The voice had been nasally and annoying, and Coach had hated it.

Coach jolted in surprise as he felt a hand grasp his naked shoulder from behind. He shivered in disgust as the clammy hand touched his body. He turned his head to meet the newcomer, but it was difficult to see in the rain and darkness.

"Y'know, I was talking to you." The man in front of him said. He was dressed in an all white suit. He kind of looked like a gay stripper he had seen once by accident when he went to Vegas.

"You scared the shit outta me, son!" Coach said, shaking his head, chuckling.

"Yeah, great," The man in the white suit muttered, raising an eye from his nail file. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was just looking for a warm place to stay. I was freezing in that damn warehouse!" Coach exclaimed, gesturing to warehouse.

"Great," White Suit said again, drily. "But—COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE."

"What-why?" Coach stuttered, confused.

"Look at this." White Suit ordered. He shoved a piece of paper in Coach's face.

"For evacuation, go to Hiltz Hotel." Coach read aloud.

"So, you coming or what? I'm not gonna wait around for no one for too long. They're not evacuating for long, and I just wanna get outta here. And I'm sure as Hell not trying to get through this crap by myself. Besides, an old fart like you looks like you could use some help. So are you with me?"

"Sure I am, boy."

"Don't call me that. _Please _don't call me that." White Suit hissed, leading the way to Hiltz Hotel.

"Okay, what your name, bo… uh, buddy… Uhh. Bobuddy?" Coach asked awkwardly.

"Nevermind names, I don't want you getting too attached. I already know I'm sexy. We're just heading to the hotel. Once we get there, don't expect to talk to me ever again. I'm way out of your league, anyways."

"Well, my frien's call me Coach." Coach said.

"Okay, Coach. How about we shut up and get going. I don't want to get stuck in this shithole."

"I don't think I like your attitude, boy."

"No one's making you come with me." White Suit hissed, snapping his fingers.

Coach just shook his head and kept walking.

…

"I'm so freakin' tired." White Suit complained, gasping for breath and sitting on the curb.

They had just overcome a gentle slope, and were close to death. Coach's vision swam and his knees were quaking. He glanced behind him to see the warehouse, only about 20 feet away.

"C'mon, only a bit further!" Coach cried, trying to sound positive, but he was heaving and gasping for breath.

"No way am I gonna keep going! I gotta sleep. Let's go in here." White Suit waved a jewelry adorned hand towards a small secondhand clothing store called Barney's Pre-loved Threads. The window was already broken in.

_Who would break into a used clothes store?_ Coach thought.

"Come _on!"_ White Suit nagged, tapping his foot impatiently, hands on his feminine hips.

White Suit sauntered up towards a large bin full of assorted shirts, pants, and undies, swaying his hips seductively as he walked. Huffing, he took an armful and heaved the items onto the floor. Smiling in an accomplished manner, he flopped down into his pile and closed his eyes.

"Make yourself a bed." White Suit drawled lazily, opening an eye.

Coach stared dumbly at him, large mouth agape. Two days worth of cookie crumbs spilled out of it and onto the floor.

"That's pretty goddamn disgusting," White Suit sneered.

Coach continued to stare, wondering how he could have made such a creation. Mere hours ago, he would have never thought such a feat possible.

Mere hours ago…

Coach's mind began to wonder…

Coach was sprawled on his couch, belt undone. His mighty gut was hanging in a glorious manner off the side of the couch. Cheeto crumbs graced its presence, sticking to it with sweat. It shone beautifully in the evening light.

He stared at his television set, remote in one hand, turkey in the other. The small animal gobbled weakly in protest as he took yet another bite from his back.

A small woman stood awkwardly in front of a building on the news. She was talking of a strange strain of rabies that had been infecting people, and urged people to barricade themselves in their homes until evacuation centres could be set up.

Coach's gaze wandered passively out the window. Outside, he could see a truck full of broken glass spiraling out of control. The driver was foaming at the mouth, and flailing wildly inside the broken glass delivery and pick-up truck.

He roared in surprise and flew up from the couch and out the window. He could feel glass penetrating his fragile skin, but he didn't care. Ever since his wife Barbara had died, he had only wanted to prove he was tougher than her.

He stood on the street, watching the broken glass pour from the truck. A steady rain began to pound down on his head, washing away his blood, sweat, and Cheetos.

Screaming, he tore off his shirt and leapt into the glass.

"Screw you, Barbara! I'm tougher!" he yelled.

"Hey! Hey, hey you! Stop that!" a man's voice yelled.

Coach looked up and howled into the wind. He had been caught. His pants had flown off in surprise. He scrambled onto all fours and took off into the rain, tears falling bitterly down his face…  
…

"Hey, fat ass! You've been standing there for twenty minutes! Are you gonna sleep?"

Coach jolted out of his trance at the annoying sound of White Suit's voice.

"Uh, sure. But I ain't making my own bed, bobuddy." Coach said, not wanting to admit he didn't know how.

"Well, you can sleep with me." White Suit grinned, trailing his hand up the length of his leg.

Coach grinned in delight, and thumped down beside White Suit.

"G'night, Bobuddy." Coach whispered.

White Suit caressed Coach's ear lightly with his tongue.

"By the way," he whispered into Coach's hairy ear. "My name's Nick. And don't you forget it, sweetbuns."

Coach shivered with delight at the feel of Bobuddy's hot breath on his ear.

They spooned with each other's naked bodies until they fell asleep.

End of chapter one


	2. Beautiful Things Can Come From The Dark

Coaches in the Sky

Chapter 2

The next morning Coach pried open a crusty eye and peered at the empty spot beside him. Nick was gone, and all that remained that proved he was even there in the first place was a sweaty outline of his body in the pile of clothes.

"Bobuddy?" Coach called out groggily. He sat up rubbing his eyes, crust falling like some kind of disgusting snowfall around and on his body.

"Coach, you gotta check this out!" Nick exclaimed happily.

Coach sniffed the air and jumped out of bed, following the scent of sweat and fear. He stepped out of the used-clothing store and saw Nick standing in front of a freakishly tanned man wearing a cap with a picture of a truck on it.

"What is this thing?" Coach asked, terrified.

"I think it's a man…" Nick replied.

"Well no shit, silly-pants! You were talking to me for hours a few minutes ago." The tow-truck-hat-man said.

"Hello, Tow-Truck-Hat-Man. I'm Coach, but on the streets they call me 'Snake' or 'Dark Dragon' or 'Low Rider'," Coach lied, trying to impress Tow-Truck-Hat-Man. "And this is Nick, also known as 'Bobuddy', or 'Danger Lion'." Coach lied again.

"Well mah names Ellis, but you can call me El, 'cause it sound mo' like a girl's name. They call me 'Candy Lips', but Keith calls me his Shining Star or baby…" Ellis trailed off, a dreamy expression on his face.

"You know," Nick started sidling up towards El's side, "I think I'd like to call you-"

"I need some help!" a woman screeched loudly, completely cock-blocking Nick. It sure sounded like she needed some help.

"She sounds like she needs some help!" Coach hollered.

"Shit, someone give me some help!" she exclaimed again.

Coach shoved Ellis out of the way, which was completely unnecessary, because Coach was seven feet away from Ellis standing in the opposite direction he was heading.

"Hey, what the Hell isa matter with you?" Ellis whined, sitting in the dirt.

"Allow me," Nick said wriggling his eyebrows, and extended a hand to Ellis.

Rolling his eyes, Coach turned in the other direction, heading towards the scent of the woman's fear. His mighty moobs bounced up and down as he jogged down the street towards a small gas station restroom. It was a total Baywatch moment.

"Hello? Anyone around?" he called warily as he cracked the door to the restroom open.

"I need some help!" the woman sobbed.

"What wrong, girl?" Coach asked, collapsing onto the floor from exhaustion.

"I got a zit in my shit-crack and can't explode it!" The woman screamed, and began to sob louder.

"Here, take this." Coach said, tossing a pipe bomb to her.

"Thanks." The woman said, completely ignoring the fact that Coach had pulled an explosive from literally out of nowhere.

Coach walked away, giving her some privacy. His wet-blanket cape flapped in the breeze, making him look like an obese Superman.

"Hey fatty," Nick said.

"YOU THINK I'M FAT?" Coach cried mournfully.

"No, you're more like a big beautiful woman. That's all. Now I told this dirty redneck about our plan to go to Hiltz Hotel. I suggest you tell Crusty over there, too." Nick said, gesturing to the dark skinned lady popping her ass zits in the mirror.

"Coolio." Coach said.

"So when we goin', boys?" Ellis asked seductively.

"Right now." Coach said after hearing an explosion coming from the room the woman was in.

"I'm coming too! The name's Rochelle, by the way." the woman called out, pulling up her pants and skipping over to the rest of the group. There was blood everywhere.

"Let's go!" Coach said, glancing at a compass he had pulled out of his neck fat.

"D'oh! I was just about to do a strip tease!" Ellis whined.

Coach looked at the compass and made sure they were pointing North. He glanced up and saw Hotel was right across from the gas station. He lead the group across the street and into the Hotel that smelled like rotten pickles and hotdogs.

"It's hotter than me in here!" Nick said as they walked through the door. It was hot in there, but not hotter than Nick. "Now the evac's on that roof up there, so let's go." Nick touched the metal railing, and pulled away instantly. "Don't touch that railing! It's hot hot hot!"

"Who put's an evac station… up thirty flights… of goddamn stairs?" Coach complained, speaking in between pants, stopping on the third step to catch his breath.

"Maybe the helicopter… maybe it's made of chocolate. Heh. Heh heh." Nick giggled, running past him.

"Or maybe it's made of Keith…" Ellis said dreamily.

"Or maybe it's made of helicopters!" the girl called out happily.

Seven hours later, the group finally made it up the stairs. They saw a helicopter flying away, just as they stumbled through the door.

"It's made of chocolate!" Coach exclaimed. And it was made of chocolate. It was melting in the sun, leaving a small trail of chocolate behind it. Coach got on all fours, licking it up greedily, his man boobs just grazing the hard ground.

"Hey! Come back!" Ellis screamed after the chocolate helicopter, even though helicopters (especially chocolate ones) don't come back when you yell at them.

"He's not coming back! Men always do this to me! My poor little broken heart! Someone console me!" Nick said, dancing towards Ellis.

"Is now the best time?" Rochelle asked.

"Sorry Ro'. I guess these long, lonely winter nights are getting to me." Nick said, probably the only one who didn't hate Rochelle.

"I heard there's another evac station at the Ma-." Rochelle began, but was quickly interrupted by Ellis.

"Hey guys, there's an evac station at the Mall, I think. We might as well head up there!"

"Okay." Nick said, nodding.

"Alright, well let's head up there! C'mon," Coach said, beckoning to the group.

"Yes! Liberty Mall! I love malls, I do. This one time, me and my buddy Dave, we were at this mall in Atlanta, and there were these horses dancing for money and stuff-" Ellis started.

"Ellis, is now the best ti-?" Rochelle asked.

"Shuddup," Ellis snapped. "Damn it, now I can't even 'member the story I was gunna tell. You sure are something else." He said frowning angrily.

Coach walked over to a picnic table that was behind them, hoping maybe some cheeseburgers were on it. There was just four medical kits, four pistols, two axes, two crowbars, and an oversized wooden mallet.

"Everybody grab a weapon." Coach demanded. Coach grabbed an axe because he had more of a chance hurting himself with it, which would prove to Barbara he was tougher than her.

"I'm grabbin' a mallet." Ellis said, grabbing two pistols aswell.

"I'm grabbin' one pistol. I'm grabbin' another pistol. I have two pistols… dual pistols… double the trouble… twice the danger… two can be as bad as one… two pistols, one Nick… the three musketeers: me and my TWO pistols… akimbo assassin… two is better than one… deadly twins… " Coach walked away from Nick so he didn't have to listen to him anymore.

"Axe me a question, I da-" Rochelle began.

"Hey, Ro'? Might be time to shuddup, girl." Ellis said, still angry from being interrupted.

"Y'all should grab a health kit too," Coach said, picking up a health kit and held it to his back, and almost like magic, it stuck, no Velcro or anything.

Coach led the group back downstairs, the stairs creaking under his weight. They reached a blue door.

"It's baby-blue… like the colour of Keith's eyes…" Ellis said, sighing. Coach just shuddered.

"G'ready, who knows what's behind this door." Coach warned.

Nick kicked the door in a feeble attempt to open it, but it didn't budge.

"Oh-la-la! You need a big strong man to open a door for you!" Ellis said, strutting towards Nick. He heard him whisper 'see you tonight' in his scabby ear. Coach growled angrily. He didn't want no one touchin' his bobuddy.

Ellis head butted the door as hard as he could, and it flew open. What awaited them at the other side was terrifying.

There were people. Loads of people. But, their eyes were milky white and unseeing. Their hair was matted with grease and gore, and blood dripped down their chins. Several had large festering wounds, that didn't seem to affect them in the slightest. They resembled Rochelle, but more attractive.

"What are these things? SHOOT THEM! SHOOOOT THEEM!" Ellis shrieked, hiding behind Nick.

"Zombie!" Nick squealed throwing back a hand and smacking Rochelle in the face.

Coach whacked anything that was in his way with his axe, even the new survivor who just walked up to them. They paid no attention to the fact that Coach had just killed a man. Not infected or anything.

"We should really be searching these rooms." Nick said as Coach rushed them down the hall, screaming at them to shut up and keep moving. He was a monster, killing anything in his path.

"THIS PLACE IS ON FIRE!" Coach roared at Nick. "We have no time to stop!"

Coach led them down a hall, but before they could go down it, there was a large explosion, and fire busted out of the door, setting their path on fire.

"We have to find another way!" Nick cried.

"Oh, no we don't!" Coach hollered. He charged through the wall of fire, screaming. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Coach—no!" he heard Ellis scream.

He didn't care.

'This has to prove to Barbara I'm tougher then her!' Coach thought as the flames licked his soft, delicious skin.

Coach went flying out the other side of the fire, screaming.

"Coach, we can't afford to die running through fire! Wait for us at the other side, we'll meet you there!" Coach heard Nick scream over the roar of Coach and the fire.

Coach sat on the floor, waiting for the others to regroup with him. Suddenly, he heard loud, wracking coughs. He looked up from painting his fingernails to see a tall man, with tumors and green smoke floating off him. It had a long pink tongue hanging out of its mouth and what looked like tentacles growing from random places on his head. Before Coach could do anything, the tumor-y man's tongue shot forwards and wrapped around Coach, dragging him forward. It tightened it's hold and began to pound him with it's small claws.

"NO! NO, NO, NO! NO!" Coach squealed.

Coach had had enough. He grabbed the smokey-zombie's tongue with his large hands and squeezed as hard as he could.

"Heeee-whee!" The zombie coughed in pain as Coach ripped himself free from the zombie's grasp. It felt good for Coach to have his bare gut hang freely again, dripping with sweat and zombie drool.

Coach screamed unnecessarily as he picked up his axe and whacked the zombie to death. A cloud of green smoke floated above the dead body.

"Hmm, musta been a chain smokah. Yeea… smoker…" Coach said to himself. "I'ma call you a smoker!"

Coach sat back down like nothing happened and continued to do his nails.

"Oh poo, that big meanie head messed them up! I didn't even get to finish drying them!" Coach exclaimed, staring at his ruined nails.

After sitting there and sulking for twenty minutes, Coach decided to have some fun and fulfill his lifetime wish. He picked up the body of the dead smoker and held its hands.

"Care to dance, my love?" He asked the carcass hanging in his hands. He held it close to his chest, resting his head on its shoulder, whispering dirty things in its ear. They twirled and danced until he heard Ellis clear his throat awkwardly.

"Coach, put the body down and let's go. We found an elevator." Nick said.

Coach sighed and looked at the dead smoker. "You're so good at dancing. Goodbye for now, my love. I hope we meet again." Coach said, gently lowering the body to the floor. "Goodnight, my sweet prince." Coach planted a soft kiss on its cold lumpy forehead and caught up with the rest of his team.

"It's down here." Ellis explained, leading them towards the elevator. "Just around this corner… oh shit…" Ellis sighed, seeing a horde of zombies running towards them.

"Good thing I'm not wearing pants!" Coach said to himself, feeling his hot urine spill down his legs.

"Uh, Coach… that's not _your_ pee…" Nick said with a weak smile. Coach just grinned at him stupidly.

"You pissed on my pants too." Ellis said angrily, glaring at Nick.

After fighting the horde and cleaning Ellis up by force, the team finally got in the elevator.

"Man, this su-" Rochelle began.

"It's like some kinda _zombie_ nightmare or some shit… shit, shit, shit." Ellis complained, taking off his hat and wiping his forehead.

"Settle down, son." Coach said, touching Ellis's hair comfortingly. It was hard and curly…

'Like dry macaroni… smothered in butter… and salt… and mustard…' Coach thought, drooling. He was starving; he hadn't eaten in five minutes. Well, the bile jar he had found was more like a drink than food, so make that ten minutes. But it had had bits of chunks, so maybe it was more like soup. Either way, Coach was famished.

"Uh… Coach, what're you doin'?" Ellis asked cautiously.

Coach snapped out of his thoughts and realized he was gnawing on Ellis's hair, putting slobber all over the elevator.

"Cleaning yo hair, boy, what else?" Coach said, not wanting to admit he was thinking about food and started to eat his friends.

Ellis was about to say something, but then the elevator started filling with smoke. Then the lights went out, and it stopped moving. An alarm went off.

"Someone's gotta pry them doors open, y'all!" Coach exclaimed.

Rochelle walked over to the doors and put her tongue between it, prying it open.

"Let's go!" Nick cried, already running out the doors.

They all burst out of the elevator, tumbling over each other.

"Hey! Lookie what we got here!" Ellis said joyfully, his face mere inches away from a silenced submachine gun. He picked it up, but one remained on the ground still.

"What the Hell?" Nick gasped.

"I dunno, man! Grab one!"

The other three picked up submachine guns from the seemingly infinite pile of weapons.

"Come on, follow me!" Nick whined, wanting to lead the group for once. He darted forward, hip firing zombies that were in the way. For some reason, the guns had no recoil and perfect accuracy.

Nick continued to jog through the hotel, dodging fire, zombies, and Ellis' wandering hands.

"Mmm-mmm. Peach cobblah," Coach drooled. "I mean. Mmm. Fresh air!"

The group stood in what appeared to be a lobby. In front of them was a large heavy door.

"Hey look, what's that red door?" Nick asked.

"I heard 'bout these," Ellis said. "Itsa a safe house!" Ellis started running towards it, grinning.

Ellis was so transfixed with the safehouse that he didn't notice the large creature burst from the shadows and straight towards him.

"Ellis, watch out!" Nick screamed. It was too late. The big armed creature slammed into Ellis with an incredible force, sending both of them into a wall.

"Get him off!" Ellis screamed.

"Shit!" Nick cried, limping towards Ellis, shooting the big armed zombie. Coach just stood there. He couldn't bring himself to hurt such a beautiful creature.

Nick shot the charging zombie enough so it let go and ran away. Nick helped Ellis to his feet, and they both limped to the safe house where Rochelle was waiting. But no one really cared about her.

Coach stood there, looking for the sexy beast he had just encountered.

That night, Coach couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the charging thing… the charger… that Nick had hurt so much. He wondered if it was alright, or if it was bleeding to death. He was sexy in a strange way, his overalls revealing just enough to turn Coach on, the way his bald head shone in the light of the fire, the passionate cry he let out before he attacked his victim. His unique gray skin, his big strong arm, his little gimpy arm… Coach knew it was wrong to think of a zombie this way, but he couldn't stop. He knew they were supposed to be killed. But that charger was anything Coach could ever want and everything he had ever dreamed of

'I need to find him.'


End file.
